


The Trade Off

by Jeneral2885



Category: NCIS: New Orleans
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeneral2885/pseuds/Jeneral2885
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brody agrees to get a cooking lesson from LaSalle who wants to learn Aikido. But will it just be a simple trade off?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Post Thanksgiving Dinner, from episode "Chasing Ghosts"._

_Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: New Orleans. This is the creation of Mark Harmon et al._

_Updated April 2015_

 

**Kitchen**

**NCIS New Orleans HQ**

**2200 hours local**

 

Meredith Brody scrubbed the plate aggressively for the umpteenth time like a carpenter polishing a wooden surface. Suddenly, a hand reached out to touch the plate.

 

"Hey!" She yelled. ":LaSalle! Stop it!"

 

"Stop what?" The Alabama boy said. "I'm trying to help out; there are a lot of plates."

 

"Stop it, I like washing up by myself," Brody mumbled. "And my hands soapy."

 

"My hands are soapy…too," Christopher LaSalle replied, then tried to remember where he heard that sort of line from. "Oh come on," he looked at the Mid-West agent scrubbing the plate. "It was just a small competition. Your dish tasted great. It had the…"

 

"It lacked the smallest tinge of salt and the amount of nutmeg was too much," Brody continued to mumble and scrub super hard at the plates. "And I didn't even get second place!" She smacked the cleaned plate hard against the dish drainer.

 

"Sebastian had a whole chemical lab to himself, don't blame yourself," LaSalle said, dipping his hand into the soapy water again to help out. He again made contact with his partner's hand which withdrew sharply.

 

"LaSalle, I said stop it. Sometimes you can be too kind," Brody whined, and then wondered about the last word she used.

 

"Thanks for that, I'm flattered," he grinned his signature smile.

 

The short-haired agent finished off the last of the plates and wiped the sink clean. LaSalle continued, "So, let's get a drink from the pub across the street? I hear they have free flows from now till midnight."

 

"Uh-nuh," she replied, wiping her hands dry.

 

"Non-alcoholic? There's a nice café before the French Quarter with good South American hot chocolate."

 

She shook her head. "Definitely not in the New Orleans Weather. Look, I know you want to cheer me up but it's not a big issue."

 

"I want to show you more than work life over here," LaSalle chose his words carefully. "Say we do trade-off."

 

"Trade-off?" What does he have planned? She thought.

 

"I'll give you a crash course in some Southern cuisine while you teach me Aikido."

 

A minute of silence settled across the room. This Alabama guy wants to teach me how to cook? I'm not that terrible a chef, just need to get the balance right. Across from her, LaSalle's brain was rapidly spinning. What on earth did I just say to her? Learn Aikido?

 

"You two finished yet? I have to cut the power for the night or the bill will be damn high," the voice of Dwayne Pride suddenly called, breaking their thoughts.

 

"Yep King," LaSalle called. Then he waited for her answer, holding his breath.

 

Meredith Brody gave a glanced at him once more as the lights flickered out. It's only a cooking session, she thought. "Very well, LaSalle. But of course not now, I want to hit the sack."

 

Oh boy, oh boy, yes! He thought. "Tomorrow? Your place?"

 

"My kitchen is still not fully functional. Yours?"

 

They both settled for a mid afternoon at his house. It's a simple martial arts training and simple cooking lesson, both of them thought. What could possibly happen?

 

To Be Continued.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter. Not my best FF

_Part 1 is slightly edited._

_Thanks for the reviews. I know Pride is the Master Chef in the team, but who says LaSalle doesn’t know how to cook?  I think Brody is the weakest chef/cook in the team, especially since she needed to consult a “foodie blog” in the episode._

_I must admit I don’t know much about Louisiana/Creole cuisine or that Alabama cuisine. Most of what I write here is what I find online. Neither do I have strong knowledge of Aikido and its various techniques. This isn’t (quite obviously) going to be an action-filled story._

**LaSalle’s Residence**

**French Quarter, New Orleans**

**1430 local**

“No, no, no, that’s too much water for the Grits,” Chris LaSalle interrupted. “Grits needs to be nice and slightly gooey, not like watery rice.”

 

“Ok, this much?” Brody held up the bowl.

 

“No, now that’s just a bit under,” the Alabama boy said. He topped up the \right amount and placed it on the stove to boil. “Now, for the LaSalle family secret recipe for biscuits.” They moved over to the table where they was a host of ingredients from flour to buttermilk.

 

“Now, you have to be really chemically precise over here,” LaSalle commented. “Could you sift the dry ingredients for me while I warm up the milk?” Brody tightened her apron and was about to mix all the ingredients together when she stopped. “This is quite alot of sugar, LaSalle,” she held up the bowl. “And you also added a cup of golden syrup.”

 

“That’s why it’s called my family’s secret; it’s sweeter than most biscuits,” LaSalle grinned, bringing over the wet ingredients. Soon everything was mixed and LaSalle sounded even more excited as he announced, “now it’s time to get kneading.”

 

“You sound like a puppy who just found a new bone or a kid with his latest toy,” Brody laughed, poking her partner in his ribs. Over the next few minutes, both Federal Agents kneaded and shaped the biscuits. “Hey, a little thinner,” LaSalle commented, looking at Brody’s raw biscuits. “This thin?” She asked. “No, no, a bit more,” he said leaning closer.

 

“Damnit, LaSalle, it’s so troublesome,” Brody said, laying down the cutter. “Just give me a pot, a pan and some foodstuff and I can whip up something easy and nice.”

 

“Ah but down here food is nice but takes good ol’ time to make,” LaSalle flashed his signature grin. “Ok, that’s it for now, we lest the biscuits rest for a while before we shove them in the oven. Your turn to show your stuff.”

 

“Show my...?”

Oh shit. “I mean your Aikido moves.”

 

“Oh,” it was Brody’s turn to laugh. “Ok, extend your arm.” LaSalle did so and even before he could raise his eye brows he was thrown in a quick move down on the floor. “Hey!”

 

“You did say you wanted to see my stuff. Now that’s a quick lesson of a mixture of second and third teaching techniques,” Brody grinned, as LaSalle got up, rubbing his wrist and arm.

 

“Ok, what’s next?”

 

“Well, I could show you the four-direction...OW!” LaSalle pushed Brody with his other hand against the table top. “LaSalle! What was that for?”

 

“That’s returning the favour and showing you how we do it down in ‘Bama,” he laughed. “Now’s we’re eve...” Just as he was about to say ‘even’, a sprinkle of flour flew in his direction. “Brody!!!”

 

“So you wanna play rough, huh?”

 

“Yeah!” With that, LaSalle threw some sugar in her direction. Both Federal agents launched into a ‘battle’ throwing the various ingredients at each other. After ten minutes, both of them were cover with multiple spots of flour, salt, drenched with water, buttermilk and even egg yolk in their hair and shoes. “Ok, ok, that’s enough,” LaSalle said, breathing rapidly and trying to brush off the biscuit batter that stained his torso and even crotch.

 

“Now that’s something they don’t teach you in Aikido class,” Brody commented, shaking the flour from her short hair. “We were so childish.”

 

“Yeah, battle over? Oh darn, looks like we really can’t eat anything,” LaSalle pointed at the table top, which now evidently had destroyed biscuits. Even the gumbo they prepared earlier was splattered all over the floor, along with other ingredients—he had planned to make hot apple fruit and cornbread.

 

“Well, you can eat the sugar off your jeans,” she laughed. Both of them finally got up and simultaneously headed to the kitchen sink to wash up. “Hey, LaSalle, stop that,” Brody protested as his hand came into contact hers. “My hands are dirty.”

 

That line again. Where have I heard that before? As both of them got up and headed for the sink, LaSalle remembered. Ah yes, Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, that scene where Princess Leia finished repairing something on the Falcon and Han Solo was touching her hands....

 

“My hands are dirty too; what are you afraid of?” Oh darn, I used the same line, he thought. Now what is she going to say?

 

“I’m not...” Brody’s reply was interrupted by a cell phone ring.

 

“Yeah, King,” LaSalle said, gingerly holding his phone with of his fingers. “Yeah, ok, I’ll be there in twenty. Uh, Brody is,” he turned to her and she mouthed some words. “Brody’s meeting someone but she’ll be there too.”

 

“Carjack of a Navy-issued vehicle,” he informed his partner. “I guess we better really wash up and gear up.”

 

“Chris,” Brody started. “sorry about that sudden move earlier on.”

 

She called me by my first name, he thought. “Sorry to be so picky over the food.”

 

“Let’s do this again some other time, partner?”

 

“Yes, let’s.”

 

The End.  

 

 

 

 


End file.
